Simple
by NailPolishWearingAssassin
Summary: The whole thing was straightforward, from his reasons to actually getting what he wanted. But, in the end, was it as simple as he thought it to be?


Title: Simple

Author: Nail Polish Wearing Assassin

Rating: Pg-13

Summery: The whole thing was straightforward, from his reasons to actually getting what he wanted. But, in the end, was it as simple as he thought it to be?

Disclaimers: I own nothing, make no money, you know the drill.

Spoilers: Don't think so.

Author's Note: Eh, nothing much. Just a little one-shot for my favorite YGO pairing, since there seem to be a couple popping up for a contest that's going on. Let's face it, there just aren't enough Kleptoshipping stories out there. Also, I wanted to try writing a story in 2nd Person, as it's so interesting. Oh, and for those of you who don't know: Kleptoshipping Yami No Bakura X Yugi

**Simple**

You listen to him as he explains his reasons to you and the point of it all, yet again (for it is not the first time), sneering maliciously at you with each word. It should make sense. After all, there has never been any question with him. He is a thief. He takes what he wants, what he wants is always easily understood with no pretty words to hide it, and nothing can stop him. Well, except the Nameless Pharaoh on a few occasions, but who can beat the King of Games?

And even still, this time there is nothing the Nameless Pharaoh can do. You know this, just as well as Bakura himself does. Not the kind, gentle Bakura of course, but the dark, vengeful one. The whole situation just seems too complex for anyone to do anything but nod their head and pretend they know what is happening, as it boggles your mind until no conscious thought is left. Except that Bakura, as he stands in front of you smirking, insists that it's all very simple.

Simple. How is this simple, you wonder? How can something like this even _work_? You still don't get it, and still want an explanation, so you ask him once again.

"What do you want? What do you get out of this?"

He growls angrily, clearly tired of your persistence and bored with a conversation he feels should have long been over. His dark brown eyes are narrow, so much more so that you thought possible. His lighter half's eyes are rather large, but he shrinks them to mere slits so easily.

He speaks quickly, with no trace of patience, "I told you, I want my revenge against the Pharaoh." Those are the simple words he seems to start almost every conversation with, consumed by an obsession that even his tongue can't forget or break, nor does it seem to want to. "By doing this, I get a part of that revenge. I have stolen something from him so precious that it cannot be replaced, and I will not give it back. And, what I have stolen can give me further access to what I need to make my victory complete."

"The heart of his partner," you state clearly, already knowing this much, "The love of his vessel. That still doesn't explain why. Why drag Yugi into this? Why not get back at the Pharaoh some other way? If you're just going to use the boy, then why bother with him?! Why are you giving him this kind of hope?!"

Your voice has grown in volume with each word that leaves your lips. You are suddenly frustrated with the ancient Thief King who faces you. Why does he not see that there are ways just as easy, just as clear, that will bring him to the same goal? Why must he drag an innocent, one who was not even present all those millennia ago, into the fight? This is where your mind always seems to be hitting a snag. You cannot think past this one point.

Bakura merely scoffs, "I care nothing for the boy, so why should it matter what I do with him in the end?"

_No_, you think to yourself upon hearing his words, _I'm missing something. I know I am. I must be._ But what? What is it you could be failing to grasp from what he keeps saying? Why can't this whole discussion be simple? Simple like Bakura seems to insist it is.

"How do you hold him?" you suddenly find yourself asking, taking the dialogue in a completely different direction than it has ever been before in its hour-long life, "How do you talk to him? How do you kiss him? How?"

Your words have caught the thief off-guard. His eyes actually widen, rather than narrow further. He seems unsure, for the first time since you met him, and the look is gone before you can blink.

"What are you trying to say?" he finally manages to ask, his tone demanding an answer yet at the same time ordering you to shut up. It is no question as to which hint you will choose.

"My question is simple!" you insist, using his own word against him now, "As yours was. You have not explained to me, why should I explain to you?"

He snorts, the sound more condescending that any insult he could have come up with, but you hold your ground. His eyes meet yours and his words bring the slightest taste of disappointment, "I have no need to explain anything to you."

He will walk away now if you do not stop him, you know he will. The conversation has turned against him, and he will not stick around to be humiliated by a pathetic mortal such as you. He has already turned away and begun walking. You still have no way of stopping him. What can you say…?

"I saw you," your voice claims, and you have no idea what you're trying to get at but do not stop your subconscious' abrupt outburst, "I saw you with him the other day, you know." You let the relief swell within you as he stops, knowing he could, and is probably tempted to, end your life, but unwilling to allow him to leave until you have your answer.

"You looked… content," you somehow manage to stutter out, "I mean, it's not like you appeared happy or anything. You were still scowling, and were frightening people off if they got too close to you, but…"

Your words die, as though you are unsure of how to proceed. You yourself are not certain if that's the case. You don't feel as if you know much of anything at this point. You're really just grasping at straws. But that's what you've been doing all along, right?

"Your eyes," you finally say, once you find the courage to speak again, "Behind them you seemed… relaxed. Comfortable. Maybe even slightly… glad." You grimace at the incorrectness of that last word you speak. It was as close as you could get, but still didn't seem to fit right.

Meanwhile, he has not moved from where he halted, and you're beginning to wonder if those were the last words you would ever speak. Surely you angered him, for his short-temper is well known.

He does not turn to look at you again. In fact, you're not even sure if he was the one who spoke the words that floated to your ears, so soft and gentle was the voice, so unlike him that there was no way they could have left his lips in such a caressing tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about." And he is gone now, into the shadows that he knows so well, given that he is the darkness itself. And you know it will be a while before you get the chance to converse with him again, a strangely disheartening notion for you still don't understand what was supposed to be, in his own words, so very simple…

You stand there, silent and contemplative for five minutes, as though praying for him to come back and give you the answer you require. You still don't understand what you were missing in his blunt remarks.

"Could it be…?" you suddenly whisper to yourself, stumbling in your thoughts across the only unlikely solution that makes sense, yet is at the same time seemingly impossible. And yet your mind turns back to the day you saw them, with that unnamed look reflecting in Bakura's retinas and irises. You try to find another explanation in the dark corners of your brain, any other one, which your mind can come up with, but none of the few you can paste hastily together with cheap children's glue are as simple as the first. You now know why that last word you spoke to him sounded so wrong.

"Funny how simple something as complex as love can be," you smile, before turning to leave.

**Fin. **


End file.
